The hunt for the Hive fleet continues as I return to the teleportarium, with enginseer Signus and my Blood Angel Rafen directing plasma warheads inside cruiser sized bioship.

It seems we have run out of atomic warheads, but the Hive fleet has also ran out of battleship sized organisms. At least live ones.

My destroyers keep shoving dead carcasses on descending orbits towards the Sotha's sun, while my Barge and cruisers blast away at smaller Tyranids, who are still insensate from their synaptic links getting brutally broken.

However, the Scythes and the Deathwatch ships simply stay in a defensive posture around the Aegida Fortress, their range too far to help anymore.

This is annoying. Why should my ships do all the work?

"I hope you're enjoying the show, Astartes. Now that Pef Lancefire is here, the battle is won and there's no need to fire your weapons anymore." I send on their Vox channel.

I think Ludvaius snorts in amusement. Maybe it was Canis.

"We have orders, Chapter Master Lancefire." a voice I know answers in a sad tone. Captain Thrasius?

"It's alright then. If the Emperor himself spoke to you, there's nothing to worry about. Pef out." I answer and close the vox box. Damn idiots!

Chaplain Delos points his finger at me in warning. "That's very close to the line, Captain. You don't know who gave them orders to hold station around the Fortress."

"So you think it wasn't the Emperor? Pretty sure that's the exact letter of the Codex. You're very close to the line, Astartes." I mutter in dismay and leave the bridge, with my bodyguards and a few Silent Sisters escorting me to my rooms.

Ludvaius seems to want to argue, but I signal him not to. There is a greater play involved, and it might end with disappearing Inquisitors.

A minute later I rest in my cogitator chair, the second one made of adamantium bars. Not going to remove my armor with Tyranids around.

Then I extract my new toy and begin exploring the enhanced options available to tesseracts, including complex manipulations of the inner dimensions, or speeding up passage of time at different locations, gravity controls and many more.

It is basically a sandbox universe, the size of a solar system. This gives me some ideas, for later.

Technically, I could grow people in a hyperbolic chamber. Or plants and animals, or all of them.

Trazyn may be smart, but he isn't quite sane. Probably never considered doing life quality experiments, only his crazy quest for relics and rare people.

The C'tan godling I leave as he is, impaled by a hundred living rock chains and looking rather sad and desperate. Gonna need to master all those special controls before I mess with a god, even a broken one.

Instead, I focus on the Silent Sisters, examining each of them in detail. With my mind!

Except a few of them, most are older and seem rather experienced, maybe even veterans. Sadly, they are not superhuman like the Astartes. Their flesh will decay and fail them, and the process has already begun.

Damn cretins in the Astra Telepathica! Life extension treatments would enhance their knowledge and combat ability for every century they gain, just like Nobles and Admirals receive.

But human life is worth little in the Imperium, and these Sisters have no rights, not even to speak.

I shall make sure they are all rescued and brought to my own kingdom. Somehow.

I don't even know how to begin collecting their hidden communities, or those Sisters kept as guards on the Black Ships or inside Inquisitorial Fortresses.

"Everyone out but the Sisters!" I demand out loud, including Ludvaius and my wolf. Canis eyes me with surprise, before giving out a pitiful cry and shuffling after the Blood Angel. Then Ludvaius closes the blackstone armored door, and not even psykers can listen in anymore.

I snap my fingers, and the room fills with 19 more Silent Sisters. Feels great to copy the classics. And those movies are 40 thousand year old here. Pretty sure only Adam or some other Eternal remember them.

Instead, the frozen Sisters who seem ready to attack someone, and I'm the only valid target.

"Wait! We're safe here!" Alana yells and starts explaining her adventures. Fidelia stays by her side and keeps gesturing with additional information about me, or my plans.

Feels kinda crazy to hear Alana's story from her perspective. My deeds and accomplishments are right there with the Saints and other famous people.

But I don't interrupt and let her speak, because her Sisters cannot. It would be fine if they were simply willing themselves to be silent, but those vows were enforced with memetic constraints, possibly similar to how the Rosette worked, and quite certainly with the same origin.

When Malcador the Sigillite started his Inquisition, he wasn't given that title for collecting emblems and postcards.

The old monster was a master of memetic and psychological indoctrination, and the results of his work last to this day, in the Grey Knights and other groups started by him.

The Emperor was much better that Malcador, and he had Silent Sisters even then, housed inside his Imperial Palace in the Himalayas.

I brought my staff out and began asking for names. It was slow and a bit painful, but we managed to connect I think. The null women weren't so scared anymore.

"Ludvaius, prepare habitation for twenty women. Adjacent rooms if possible." I asked in my mind, curious if the staff could pierce the blackstone armor.

The Blood Angel opened the door and did a quick count. "Five rooms, four beds each?" he asked in a wry voice.

"Yes Ludvaius. Wake me up in ten hours." I muttered as I fell asleep, still in my power armor.

Wasn't very comfortable, but I should get used to living in my armor. All Astartes did, when deployed. And some of them were deployed for centuries.

Much later, I woke up to the smell of blessed caf. I didn't drink much of that poison anymore, but I still loved the smell.

"We're almost at ten percent with the Tyranid fleet, Captain. Over 950 kills and climbing." Ludvaius explained after sipping from my coffee for some reason. Someone else was in the room too.

I turned and saw a couple of Lamenter Apothecaries beside the door, waiting for orders. "We have called reinforcements, Master Lancefire. The Tranquility and the Icarus will arrive in 3 days." one of them explained in a patient tone.

Made sense and my half-working battleship plus a thousand corvettes will speed up the cleaning duty, hopefully before the xenos swarm recovered. I nodded and grabbed my cup before the ugly Blood Angel drank it all.

"Medical testing for the new Sisters. Oldest first, get them into prime time as soon as possible. Blank recruits will need lots of hard work." I ordered after gulping half of my cup. Didn't taste so great anymore.

One of the Apothecaries tried to say something, but the first one just pushed him out. Hopefully nothing bad.

"What else?" I asked Ludvaius in a curious tone.

"The Inquisitor has disappeared. Or anyway, the Deathwatch cannot contact him. It seems he was supposed to be underground, in the secret facility that nobody is allowed to know about." he says in a small grin.

I smile widely. "I still need the Pharos for myself. Plenty more torpedoes in my pocket."

"I knew it! The same trick as you used with the Sisters? Also, the Eldar prisoners have vanished somewhere too. My Brothers are very worried, and punches were mentioned by an irate Captain." he added with a snort.

I just shrugged and finished my caf serenly. "The Emperor works in mysterious ways. And an Astartes listens only to the Emperor. Maybe a Primarch, if he's not a traitor. Kinda even odds there."

Ludvaius grunted as if in pain. "Inquisitors speak in the name of the Emperor, Captain. You must take care."

I nodded gravely. "I am taking all precautions, and gather evidence before I execute them. Of course, sometimes they never find a body. Much cleaner that way."

Ludvaius blinked with his single good eye, and then sighed. "Please stop talking, Captain. Just find a way, somehow."

"You're right, Brother. Let's go eat, and then blow up some xenos!" I exclaimed cheerfully and pushed myself up.

Nothing invigorated me more than the promise of burning demons in the morning.

Soon enough, we teleported inside the Pharos for another extermination round, this time the daemon worlds of Bulwark, then Durell and lastly Coranin.

All three worlds were rather close, still in the Hadex Anomaly. I could have potentially burned one more, but didn't want to tire myself to exhaustion again.

I decided to test the Dawn_Blade, the new relic I have received from Trazyn, so I did.

A dozen Orks as a test, and then an Eldar. Didn't work quite as I expected, but that might be because of my Blank nature, so I had to ask Ludvaius to try it too.

He decapitated a dozen confused Orks and another Eldar, and waved the strange weapon around. "Why are we doing this, Brother?" he asked as I policed the crime scene and vanished the bodies near the sun.

"I heard a rumour about this type of weapon. But I suppose we do have Sanguinius blood and extended lifespan. Let me bring Letitia and Fidelia here." I mused to myself while kidnapping those Sisters from their room.

An armored hand arrived in front of my face, so possibly Fidelia wasn't too happy. "Peace, my dear null maidens. Take this weapon, and strike at neck level." I explained and summoned an Ork Shoota, without his weapon.

While the stupid mushroom checked his empty hands in confusion, Fidelia struck with excellent strength and control, parting the muscled neck like...a green vegetable, perhaps.

Almost instantly, an invisible wave passed through the blade into her. Not Warp based, because she was a Pariah, completely immune to that type of emissions.

But, something life related, or maybe fate? Chronal manipulation was also possible for Necrons or Hruds as well, and those were not psykers.

"Oh? Another strange ability of yours?" Ludvaius asked with obvious interest.

"It is merely a chronophagic blade, nothing special." Zarhulash spoke from his impaled shape on the cavern's wall. Eternal life was pretty special, to me.

I shook my head and began summoning more and more Orks, while observing Fidelia for changes. About 30 Orks later, those stolen years began coursing back through the sword and into my new girlfriend.

Fidelia looked vibrant and healthy now, skin clean and rosy and she seemed to have lost 30 years, although her eyes were still wise and stern like all the veterans.

"Pass the sword to Letitia. I guess we won't need expensive rejuvenation anymore. I do have a billion Orks stored in my pocket." I explained while drawing the pretty red-headed maiden into a hug.

She kissed my cheek in thanks, so I must be doing something worthy of praise, just like the imprisoned C'tan claimed.